Story Excerpt
More Than A Pet

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“Are you Marrik?”

Marrik glanced over at the man that spoke, surprised by the softness of the voice he heard until he saw the small, thin man standing beside him. Then it made sense. No man that regularly inhabited the bar they were in spoke so demurely. It could get someone killed.

There was one exception and he stood in front of Marrik, his head bowed, eyes looking down at the floor as all pets should do. Meeting a master’s eyes could be seen as a challenge for power and that got people killed.

“I’m Marrik,” he replied slowly. He was intrigued as to what this pet wanted. While it wasn't unusual for a pet to approach him, it was unusual for one to speak before given permission to do so. It was very unpet like.

“Remsen Marrik?”

Marrik sat up straighter and leaned back in his chair. He crossed his arms over his chest as he stared the man down. “Who wants to know?” he asked, curious to find out because not many people knew his first name. Everyone just called him Marrik.

Marrik was shocked by the glint of desperation in the milky green eyes that darted up to meet his for a brief second. The man’s entire body shook and he looked ready to pass out on the floor. He was clearly terrified.

“Please, sir?”

“Yes,” Marrik said, softening his reply when the man’s anxiety came through in his distressed whisper, “I’m Remsen Marrik.”

The relief that came over the man was immediate. His shoulders slumped as if a large weight had been lifted from them. His eyes closed briefly then dropped back down to the floor when they opened up again. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a white envelope, handing it over.

 Marrik almost fell out of his seat when the man knelt down on the floor at his feet. He sat back, raising his arms out of the way as he watched the man wiggle under the table between his legs to lay his head down on Marrik’s leg.

The man let out a contented little sigh and all of the tension in his body seemed to fade away right before Marrik's eyes. The little guy looked happy as fuck to be right where he sat—between Marrik’s legs. Marrik would be lying if he said there wasn’t something he liked about the man sitting there.

As the man snuggled in, Marrik remembered the envelope he held in his hand. Curious, he broke the wax seal and opened it up, pulling a piece of tan parchment paper free. He frowned as he opened it up read it.

Dear Remsen Marrik,

I would be the first to say that you and I don’t see eye to eye on almost anything. We’ve even had our fare share of differences over the years. However, I have never seen you as anything other than an honorable adversary.

That being said, there is no one I feel I can entrust my precious treasure to except you. I know that you will protect my Boy with everything in you. If you’re reading this letter, something has happened to me and I am no longer able to care for him. My Boy is special and many people want him for their own nefarious purposes and I hope you will keep him safe.

Boy is a gentle soul that needs a firm hand, guidance, and a safe place to be. I hope that you can provide that for him. I have informed Boy that he now belongs to you and must serve you as he served me. He understands his duties. His personal contract has been amended and your name now replaces mine as his master, as has his identifier mark.

I am trusting you with my most valuable possession, Marrik. Don’t fuck it up.

Jonathon Simpson.

Marrik’s mouth dropped open and he stared down at the man kneeling between his legs as shock flew through him like a freight train. He had inherited a boy, a pet? He didn’t know if he had ever heard of such a thing.

“What is your name?”

“I am called Boy, Master.”